


The First Time

by bjfic_archivist



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Canon, Episode Related, Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-05-08
Updated: 2004-05-08
Packaged: 2018-12-27 01:58:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12071334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bjfic_archivist/pseuds/bjfic_archivist
Summary: Brian and Justin's POV, Gapfiller for episode #101 and #102.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

Brian

Opening the door to my jeep and tuning out the idle bitching of my hopelessly pathetic companions I catch him out of the corner of my eye. The light from the lamppost above lights up his beautifully pale skin and makes his blue eyes shimmer with an ethereal glow. Holy shit…and I thought this was going to be a wasted night. He looks fucking 15 years old. That face, that body…

Well, he’s out on Liberty Ave at one in the morning, at least he’s legal. And coming home with me. I’m apparently being compensated for the shitty blow job that just nearly bored me to tears. Such a pretty mouth wasted on someone with the inability to grasp how to suck a dick.

Justin

I should just go home. What the fuck am I doing out here? One of these guys could kill me. That dude who told me to go home to my mommy was scary as hell. I don’t think I can do this. I do want to run home to my mom, I want to dive into my warm bed, envelope myself in familiar sheets, forget that I’ve tried to be a man, when I’m clearly still a boy.

But, wait…good god, he’s gorgeous. The face of an angel, the body of a Greek god. Yes! Just what I was looking for. He’s the one; I can feel the sureness resonate in my entire body. The absoluteness of him being the one. And he wants me, just look at his eyes. Fuck me, he’s walking this way. Don’t fuck this up Justin, do not fuck it up.

“How’s it going? Had a busy night?” The words pour from his supple, red lips with an alarming smoothness.

Do not fucking act lame and say you’ve been wandering the streets contemplating the cataclysmic affect that the loss of virginity will have on your boring life. Don’t tell him you were about to abort this mission and go home tail tucked. Don’t tell him he’s made you change your mind inside of ten seconds. Stay cool. Say something good, anything.

“Just out checking out the bars…you know, Boy Toy, Meat Hook.” Yes, perfect. He’ll think I know what the fuck I’m doing out here.

Brian

Well fuck me, this kid hangs out in some dicey places. So young to be tricking in such seedy joints. Even I rarely see the inside of Meat Hook during the week.

“Meat Hook. Really? So you’re in to leather?” I smirk, let him know that I find his youthful and naive appearance to be in interesting juxtaposition to his choice of hang outs. I am taking this one home. He answers me very plainly, “Sure.” I can tell he’s not so sure, but what the fuck do I care. I couldn’t give a shit less if he did or didn’t like leather, as long as he likes to fuck. Let’s get this show on the road, “Where you headed?”

“No place special.” Just the fucking answer I was looking for.

“I can change that.” You bet your hot little ass I can. I say it with sex and determination in my voice. Let him know I truly mean that. Being fucked by Brian Kinney changes your night, if not your life.

Justin

What am I doing, what the fuck am I doing? Can I go through with this? Fuck yes, look at him. I never imaged my first time would be with someone so beautiful, so much older…god I’m sure he’s really experienced. Can I wing this? Will he know? I must look like an idiot. But, I’m the idiot he wants to take home. Just get in the jeep Justin, just get in…  
*******************************************************************************************

Justin

The building is like an old restored warehouse, the elevator creaks and hisses and I’m trapped behind this ancient wood gate…Where the fuck is he taking me? He can’t live here. The elevator grinds to a halt and he slides up the grate to reveal this huge, heavy, cold, ominous, steel door, the only thing between who am I at this moment and who I’m about the become. Why is devirginization such a huge deal? I want to pretend it isn’t…but it is. Maybe even more for me than other kids my age, being gay…being different…being with a man…a man, he really is a man. There’s nothing youthful about the confidence of him, his prowling walk, his knowing stare.

That steel door slides open and the most exquisite space I’ve ever seen is revealed. It’s not at all the damp, dark lair I’d conjured up on the excruciatingly long elevator ride. Sharp lines, cool light, hard edges, beautiful white furniture, erotic artwork…I take it all in quickly, but knowingly…memorizing every moment as I go…

He heads for his kitchen, “Coming in?”

I was lost in a daze and his words snap me back to reality, “Hmm…oh yeah.”

“Close the door.” He says it softly, but with force. We both know this is the moment of truth. This is it, I can run. I’ll hit the stairs before he even sees that I’m gone. The thought is fleeting…the stir in my groin far surpasses any want I have to run from my inevitable fate. I really don’t know what will happen to me behind this soon-to-be closed door, all I know is I need him to touch me more than I’ve ever needed anything in my life.


	2. The First Time

So I slide it shut, and release a tense breath. When I turn he begins to disrobe, flings his shirt to the floor and swigs bottled water. Pours it over his head, reminds me of a movie scene…so perfect, so surreal. I’ve never laid eyes on such a beautiful creature. I can hardly be expected to act normally in the face of such perfection. But, I have to.

I tell him he has a nice place, what a lame thing to say. “Shut the fuck up!” I’m screaming in my head…it’s a nervous habit…filling empty space with mindless chatter. The water cascades over his flawless chest.

“I like your kitchen.” He seems unaffected by my comment altogether.

“Do you like special K?” Odd question, but I’ll happily converse with him over something mindless, maybe it will help me breathe.

I shrug, “It’s okay, I like cheerios better.” Honest answer, Special K sucks.

“I don’t mean the kind you eat with bananas.” What is he pulling out of his pocket? 

“My disco pharmacologist cooks this up for me.” Oh god, he’s going to make me do drugs. Fuck, what do I do? What do I say? I can’t look like an inexperienced kid. Oh help me.

I start babbling about how I’m allergic to a lot of drugs, it’s true…but I know he couldn’t give a shit less…and probably is misconstruing my reaction as naivety, which it is.

When I tell him I’m allergic to Tylenol he responds, “Tylenol? No one’s allergic to Tylenol. Tylenol’s what they give you when you’re allergic to everything else.” Oh fuck, he doesn’t believe me at all. This is not going well. I have got to gain some control here.

I continue about vomit and shitting as a bad reaction to taking codeine. And I cannot shut up. He says he’ll keep the drugs on the top shelf out of reach. I can only sigh with relief that he ends the horrid exchange on a humorous note.

Shit, my breath catches in my chest as he starts to unbutton his jeans. He removes them entirely to reveal a well-fitted white jock strap that I find disturbingly appealing. He removes it quickly. What did the band say? 2xist? Oh, I’m existing all right. Maybe for the first time in my life. And I don’t know if I’ll last another minute with my heart beating this fast and my breath caught in my lungs…but I’m sure as hell going to try.

“So are you coming or going? Or coming and then going? Or coming and then staying?” The words pound in every inch of me and stir places deep inside me I didn’t know existed. I can hardly deny myself this experience now. Just look at him.

Oh god, his dick is amazing. If I had any doubts my homosexuality was certain, they’ve all left me now. I want to worship that cock for the rest of my life. It’s beautiful, it’s long, it’s silky-looking, soft-looking, wonderful looking. I want to reach out and grab it. I want to taste it. I want it inside of me. So many thoughts fill my head I know I wouldn’t remember my name right now if someone asked me.

Still pensive and unsure and unclear about what to do and how to move under the gaze of this creature I slowly begin to remove my jacket. It seems the proper thing to do. I want to rip all of my clothes off, but my self-conscious nature wouldn’t allow it…even under these circumstances. Look at him, every muscle defined, every inch of him perfect. His dick hangs in such glory, in such beautiful concurrence to the rest of his slim frame. It’s the thickest and most prominent thing on him.

Getting a grip I ready myself for the first touch, the first mark he’ll leave on me. He hesitates in front of my face. Grabs my dick before our lips touch, before any part of his body grazes mine I can feel him touching me through my jeans…he’s knows I’m hard, rock hard. I might just come from the graze of his fingers and breath on my cheek. How am I ever going to last? I have to focus on something else. I have to get a grip on what I’m feeling.

The hairs on his head brush my cheek then his lips just barley touch mine, waiting for me to need him even more than I already do. He finally kisses me as he undoes my jeans. He takes my mouth into his, I roll my tongue over his. Gripping the back of his head, I feel heat surge to the surface of my skin. I’ve never known such sublime pleasure.

My senses pound from overload, my body aches from his touch. This man is breaking me down, building me up, teaching me who I am and what I want to be. How is it that I’ve gained more life experience and sensation from a stranger inside of 10 minutes than I have from every influential person in my life over the course of my entire existence? I want to settle myself and ready my body for what’s to come, but the white noise that surrounds me fills my head. His breathing, my panting, clothes moving, skin touching. My head is spinning, I don’t know if it will ever stop.

Brian

Christ this kid is hot. He was good looking on the street corner, he’s downright beautiful in here where I can actually see him. I wasn’t sure he was going to stay when I told him to shut the door. He’s really pensive. Must not trick too often. He’s young, he has lots of time to learn to be more relaxed. I almost laugh at his adolescence. It sends a little chill through me. I like ‘em young. Eager and willing, easy to teach, easy to please. What more could you ask for?

He finally commits to this by taking his jacket off and starting to walk toward me. I always make them come to me. His face loses its worry and fills with signs of expected ecstasy. And I’ll deliver tenfold. I’ll be the best fuck this kid has ever had. He’ll be begging for more, all night. Until I kick him out, then he’ll jerk off to my memory for months to come.

He gets close to me, he leans in to kiss me. I hesitate in front of his face. He needs me to make the first move, I’m sure he thinks I’ll touch my lips to his any moment. I reach my hand down for his cock. Touch it with just the right amount of pressure through the front of his jeans. I make him jump, make his eyes open wide. This is going to be even more fun than I thought.


	3. The First Time

Then I kiss him, just lightly at first, then deeper and with more intent. I run my tongue over his. I glide it along the inside of every inch of his mouth. He’s a pretty good kisser, must have had a good teacher. Not too sloppy, not too eager, just right. Then he grips the back of my head, he wants more of me. I start to undress him, start to roam his body with my hands. I want nothing to do with this white t-shirt and his cheap jeans. I want hot skin, a taut body. I kiss his neck and all over his face. I reach down and unbutton his jeans, grab his dick again, but this time only through his underwear. He jumps and lets the first moan escape. He’s already rock hard. Gotta love the young ones, always ready to go. I smile at the size of his cock, pretty impressive considering his body size. Yes, this is going to be a good night.

When his knees start to get weak, and I can tell they are by the slight tremble his body is experiencing as I rub his dick with a deep rhythm through his briefs, I move toward the bedroom. He follows eagerly. He sheds the rest of his clothes as we make it up the stairs. He looks at my deep blue satin sheets, velvet duvet, cool blue tubes of light above my bead. I know he’s impressed, they always are. But then he grabs me and starts to kiss me again. Ah, taking a bit of control. Quite a nice surprise.

I throw him down on the bed and sit astride his waist. I kiss him deeper and deeper until he moans from the pressure of my lips on his. Then I sit up and look down at him, soak him in. What a gorgeous body, he has a great ass and he’s so tight. The glory of youth. I bet he’s never seen the inside of a gym. Lucky little bastard.

His dick bobs in between my legs. I look down at it and so does he. He sucks in a breath as my hands wraps around its warmth. I can tell he is shocked by my touch and elated to finally feel it. I search his eyes for any recognition of what is going on here. I find none. This can’t be his first time?

Justin

Oh god, he’s stroking me with this amazing rhythm, like it’s something he took extensive courses in to learn to do it this well. I lie beneath him, totally submitted to whatever he wants to do to me. He stares at me as he tortures me. Says nothing for a long while. My toes start to curl and rate of my breathing increases rapidly. He can see I’m getting close and then he tells me not to come. He has no idea what a tall order that is. I tell him I’ll try, but almost immediately I have to make him pause. I touch his hand and he stops in mid stroke. He half-cocks an eyebrow, but doesn’t seem too displeased at my action. My cock is leaking come all over the place; he looks down at it and then me. He smiles a bit and I smile a lot in response.

He begins to speak and I can hardly hear what he says when he does. His voice is so silky, so deep, so perfect. I can’t distinguish the syllables as I let each word dance in my ear.

“What do you like to do?”

“Do? I don’t know watch TV, play Tomb Raider.” Kind of an odd question, I guess he just wants to know a little about me.

He smirks, “I mean in bed.” Fuck I’m an idiot.

“Oh…this is fine.” That’s the damn truth. I don’t know how much longer I can hold it, but he can stroke me all night if he wants. I had no idea it would feel so good to let someone else do it.

“Are you a top or a bottom?” Oh god, just lie. Tell him what you think he wants to hear. Don’t say top, you don’t know. Don’t say bottom that probably really hurts. Fuck me, what do I say?

“Top…” Shit. Not the right answer…quick fix it, “and bottom.” Much better, he’s smiling now.

“Oh, you’re versatile then?” Again with the voice, what did he say? Versatile? Yes I am.

“And ambidextrous,” I add, “Which was really confusing at first cause I could never figure out which hand to throw with.” I’m babbling again. He shuts me up, “Do you like to rim?”

That sounds interesting, “Sure, I love it.” I seemed a little eager there, but of course I am. I want to know what the fuck rimming is. I’ve never even heard of that.

“Great. Go to it.” Oh fuck, this doesn’t come with an instruction manual. He wants me to do something I haven’t the faintest idea the definition of. Like a deer in headlights I stare at him awaiting death.

“Well?” Fuck me, I’m going to have to come clean.

“What exactly do you mean?” My answer is soft and apologetic and guilt-ridden all at the same time. I must suddenly look like a confused ten-year-old to him now. Literally saved by the bell, the phone rings.

Brian

Okay, so it is his first time. No clue what rimming is? Surely anyone he fucked would have taught him that. Do I want to devirginize this kid? He is hot. And obviously wants to do this. I wonder how old he is? In college probably. Just starting to accept he’s never going to settle down with some prissy little girl. Realizing he wants to take it up the ass and suck dick like the rest of us. I can’t very well deny him a great first time can I? Fuck, who the hell is calling me at this hour?

When I answer the phone Melanie frantically explains that Lindsey has had the baby. I can’t believe I forgot it might be sometime this week. Has it been nine months? Is she sure the kid IS actually mine? Tubes of sperm get mixed up you know. I hurriedly tell her I’ll be at the hospital in ten minutes. I’ve unconsciously been stroking this kid beneath me for most of my conversation, and then it happens. The little shit suddenly comes all over both of us.

Fucking…little…twat.


	4. The First Time

“Shit, Jesus Christ, I told you not to.” I start wiping his fucking come off my chest and face and duvet. God, it’s everywhere.

“I tried…I’m sorry.” Yeah, sorry doesn’t cut it kid. He has no idea how fucking much this bed set cost. More than his little life is worth.

“All over my new duvet. Thank you very much.” I glare at him and soften, only a little, when I see the genuine remorse in his eyes. I’m reminded how young and unrestrained he is.

“It’ll wash out won’t it…I mean you should see my sheets at home.” He stammers, can see that I’m genuinely mad and doesn’t know how to fix this. I want to crack a smile at the line of his own come that runs from his mouth to his ear. It glistens all pearlized and wet against his light skin. Something about it amuses me, but I don’t have time to enjoy it.

Melanie screams into the phone, asking who the fuck I’m talking to, “Just some kid, what’s your name again?” I raise my eyebrows at him, it’s an honest question. I work not to remember anyone’s name. As a result, I systematically forget what everyone’s is the second it comes out of their mouths in an introduction.

“Justin.” He says it quietly, looks hurt, he should really get over that. He has no clue what other psycho he could have ended up with. Has no idea how lucky he is that I picked him up, regardless of whether or not I remember his name.

“Justin,” I answer Melanie sarcastically and add, “I’ll be right there.” I shut my phone off and stare at boy wonder. I shake my head at him and dismount his little, new, shaking body.

Justin

Fuck me. I tried so hard, he has no idea how hard. I couldn’t help it. I tapped him to stop, but I really didn’t want him to. Needed to end the agony, wanted some release. When my toes started to curl and my back started to arch he should have realized what was coming. Me.

He’s really fucking pissed. I can’t believe after all this I’ve blown it with this amazing guy. He’s so beautiful, even when he’s so angry.

He asks my name as he bitches about me into the phone. God he doesn’t remember…probably doesn’t care…I don’t even know if I even mind. This phone call is going to take him away from me. We aren’t going to finish what we started. It can’t be over, we haven’t gotten to the main event…I am not letting him slip away. Absolutely no way. I’ll wait here for him, I’d wait forever to see this out.

He makes another call, after giving me a harsh verbal beating, as he starts to get dressed. Summoning someone to go with him somewhere. God, he’s going to make me leave. I just know it.

Brian

Flying in to the room after talking to Mikey I throw pieces of his strewn clothing at him and announce it’s time to go. It sucks we didn’t get very far, but the announcement of the arrival of a child into the world that is half mine made my dick go soft immediately anyway. He looks at me nervously after I tell him to get out, “Where? I can’t go home. My parents think I’m staying at a friends.” Fuck, did he just admit he lives with his parents? How old is this kid? Buttoning my shirt I ask him about living with his parents, then about what year he is in school. His answers are clearly fabricated. Better get to the bottom of this.

“Hold old are you?”

“21.”

“What year were you born?”

“19…79.” He stumbles over the answer, the quick calculation doing a number on his brain.

“Bullshit, you had to think about that before you answered. How old are you really?”

“20….” I walk a little and look at him again, letting him know I know he’s still lying to me.

“19…” Oh god, I think he’s still lying. I walk some more and look at him again.

 

“18…” He could still be in fucking high school at 18. I walk some more and look at him again.

“Well, what is this a missile launch?”

“17….” Christ, I could go to jail for this. That’s kind of hot. And that explains why he wasn’t skilled in the art of rimming. Most teenagers have no idea how to torture an asshole with their tongue. Of course, I knew how to do that before I could drive…but that’s a different story.

“What is it with kids today?” I shake my head as I mock him.

“We just want to get laid like everybody else.” Good answer kid, can’t argue with that.

“Have you ever been with anyone before?” I furrow my eyebrows as I pull on my black leather boots.

“Sure.” Then he adds, “Well, not exactly…this is sort of my first.”


	5. The First Time

“I figured. Kind of young aren’t you?” He crunches up his face at me. He’s right. He’s certainly old enough to go out seeking some action…although I don’t know that Liberty Avenue is the right venue for a kid his age. Could end up with…well, with someone my age.

“Well I was 14 my first time.” I lean back onto my elbows, letting them sink into my soft bed as my eyes glaze over with the rush of memories filling my head.

“That’s really young.” His voice has shock in it, I can tell he sees a little bit of who I am now…sees what my life has been like. In a way I want to tell him the whole story. What is it in this kid’s eyes that makes me want to let him in for a minute?

“With my gym teacher.” I smirk as I say it. What a great first time story.

“I bet he was some old perv.” This time it’s him who’s smirking, but I stop him quickly.

“That old perv was probably the same age that I am now.” I say it matter-of-factly and lock my eyes on him, giving him some idea that I’m not as young as I look. Not as young as he’d like to believe I am. Not as young as the curve of my thighs, the fire in my eyes or the definition of my shoulders lets on.

I continue, “It was after school in the locker rooms. He was taking a shower, I went back for something…a book, my jockstrap, I don’t remember. Anyway, there he was all naked and soaping himself. He saw me there, a big boner under my chinos. Shit…I walked right into the showers with all my clothes on. Got down on my knees and sucked him off right there.”

I smile as I tell it. Remember the way my knees were imprinted with the harsh lines of the cheap tile on the shower floor. Remember how the water ran in my eyes and blinded me. How his eager little hands clenched the back of my head and pulled at my soaked hair. Remember how the smell of him was distinct and thick and not really very pleasant…even though he was showering. Remember the rush of tasting a dick for the first time. Feeling my sexuality rise up inside of me. Take me over. Begin to define me. Remember figuring out who I was in that shower and feeling happy afterward knowing for the first time that there was a certain something I wanted. That certain something being dick.

“He let you?” The kid’s raised pitch and disbelief snap me out of my trip down memory lane. I throw a glance at him.

“Let me? He loved it.” I grit my jaw and roll my eyes a little. Does this child actually think there is anyone on earth who wouldn’t beg me to suck their dick if given the opportunity? Even when I was 14.

“I bet you were scared?” His voice tells me that’s the way he feels now. He needs to know I felt that too all those years ago. Wants to meet on some level with me in between where he is and where I am. Isn’t going to happen kid. We are two very different people.

“Well, I guess we’re all a little scared our first time…” I stand up and start to cross the room in front of him. But, then I stop and turn to meet his questioning gaze. “But I don’t remember anymore.” My eyes cover with a protective seal I’ve spent my life developing and perfecting. It stops any onlooker from seeing any hint of emotion behind them. It keeps me safe from revealing anything to anyone. I’m not letting my guard down for anyone, especially not some fucking kid whose face I won’t remember tomorrow.


End file.
